


Hunger, hunger is the purest sin

by Lizzen



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Bad Romance, Blow Jobs, Dark, Dubious Consent, Episode Related, Episode: s03e19 Letharia Vulpina, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Really dubious consent, Torture, Underage Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-19
Updated: 2014-02-19
Packaged: 2018-01-13 01:06:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1207144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lizzen/pseuds/Lizzen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's more than one way for the Nogitsune to suck the pain out of Scott. </p><p>A minor adjustment to the scene in 3x19, "Letharia Vulpina"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hunger, hunger is the purest sin

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by this [post](http://classictammy.tumblr.com/post/77095945378/take-liberties-jqhcreated1d-liminal-zone)
> 
> My dearest jqhcreated1d made [THIS ART](http://jqhcreated1d.tumblr.com/post/77134242634) in honor of this prompt~ and inspiration. CHECK IT OUT.
> 
> ETA: AND THEN HE MADE [THIS ART](http://jqhcreated1d.tumblr.com/post/77153826870), which is NSFW ~WARNING~ NSFW ALERT, and it's so amazing I could cry. 
> 
> With much thanks and love to my friends, S&V&D, you wayward souls.

_when the fox hears the rabbit scream, he comes a-running...but not to help_

*  
"Scott, you're my best friend, okay. I need you. Scott, you're my brother. If you're going to do this, then. You're just gonna have to take me with you."

*  
He can feel the Oni pounding against the barrier, their swords and teeth sharp against its warding power. The Nogitsune calculates he has limited time to take what he needs, but there's time enough not to be sloppy about it. Strength must be built, walls must be torn down; and the boy inside of him needs a proper lesson about how serious his master is. 

He is ancient force; no one can deny the things he has seen, the strife he triggers, the pain he cultivates, the chaos he brings. There is no cage that holds him, no rules that bind him. 

"You okay?" 

Scott stares at him, shivering in the cold from the rain, from the fight he just clawed his way through, from the sword deep in his belly, from the insidious burn of betrayal. 

"Please don't. Stop." The words echo in his mind as the boy inside of him begs. 

It's easy to press in close to a paralyzed prey; easy and intoxicating. The Nogitsune deeply breathes in to taste fear, confusion. Scott smells so good, all vulnerable and wounded. It's more than blood and tears that leak out of him now. A true alpha, and glorious. Scott projects such incredible waves of pain, undulating out of every inch of him. The Nogitsune smiles. 

"It's okay."

Werewolves, with all their rage and loneliness, have ever been a good source of comfort; this one in particular will be exquisite to taste. His long fingers play with the sword hilt, a memory of a song he played centuries ago. The boy inside him cries out a moment before Scott does. With a sharp twist of the wrist, the Oni's sword cuts deeper into Scott's belly. His red eyes flutter, and a whimper escapes out of his throat. 

"Does it hurt? Hey, look at me."

The boy inside of him is screaming now, full force. He breathes in deeply, sucking in air as if that's what feeds his rage. _I warned you_ , he thinks.

"You should have done your reading, Scott. See, a Nogistune feeds off chaos, strife, pain. This morning you took it from Isaac. Then you took it from Coach. And then from a dying deputy."

Scott's eyes are wide with anguish now; holding back what little strength he has because Scott can't dare damage Stiles, _Stiles_ , his brother, his friend. 

Fealty is such a lovely thing to break. 

"All that pain. You took it all."

Hunger is getting the better of him, and he moves in flush against Scott, pushing him harder against the table. 

Stiles' mouth opens and the Nogitsune says: "Now, give it to _me_."

His hand takes hold of Scott's head, clutching the skin so tight it bunches in his fingers. The transfer is immediate, and the pain seeps slowly through skin, feeding him. He breathes in once more, the smell is overwhelming. A feast of agony mixed in with the chaos of Scott's thoughts. This tactile pressure weakens Scott's considerable strength, destabilizes him. 

More, he thinks, _more_ ; and he leans in to press his lips to Scott's. A guttural gasp rises out of Scott, bubbling out of him, opening his lips for release. Taking full advantage, the Nogitsune presses in further, his tongue swirling into his mouth. A searing kiss that lingers somewhere between sweetness and a controlled dominance. He pulls away for a millisecond just to breath in the cool air as his eyes roll back; the sensation is just short of overwhelming. It's been a decade since the Nogitsune properly kissed someone, and with every broken gasp, he knows it was worth waiting for this one. He feels Stiles' dick firm up in his pants, straining a little and leaking. Desire is a powerful force. 

He drops a hand to the sword hilt, and he twists it just another centimeter as he sucks on Scott's lower lip. What else can the Nogitsune do but moan out his pleasure at this; all those layers and layers of pain rebounding inside of Scott seep out of his skin into the Nogitsune and it's just not enough. There's so much more to take and time is running out. 

His hand drops from the sword hilt to Scott's pants and expertly unbuttons and unzips. Scott's dull eyes open wider, and there's a spark of strength left in him. He pushes at the Nogitsune with clawed hands, a panicked struggle that subsides when the Nogitsune bites roughly at Scott's lip in response and palms his dick through the briefs. It's at half mast, but just hard enough. He slides his hand around to grip Scott's ass, a tight squeeze. It's been so long since he's done this, and the Nogitsune thrums with a thousand stings of anticipation. Scott's eyes are deep red now but his claws retract. 

If the Nogitsune nudges the sword on his way down to his knees, all the better.

Looking up at Scott's shocked face, he says, "Come on, Scott, it's not like you haven't thought about these lips around your dick." 

While Scott's too drained to do much else but weakly nod, his dick reacts with a stronger surety. After gently peeling underwear off and down, the Nogitsune noses the length of Scott's hardening dick before licking it from head to balls. The transfer is much warmer here, more vibrant, more true. Pain is like a burning fire here, not that deliciously teasing sensation of a guttering candle when he kissed Scott's lips.

With one move he closes his mouth over the head and he sucks tight before opening further to fill his mouth all the way to his throat. Sucking once, twice; and Scott stutters something incoherent. The Nogitsune takes Scott's hand and places it in his hair. Practices a tug before letting loose.

The transfer here is so much better, filling him richer and rounder. Here is where Scott's the most vulnerable and raw. An open tap to all the pain he could ever need. 

"Beautiful," he says after pulling off with an obscene pop. Greedily, he goes at it again, finding a rhythm that makes Scott keen. His hands grip Scott's ass and his fingers dig in deep to the skin. Scott's running out of fight now; the pain transfer has numbed him to a point of pliancy. His fingers are tangled in Stiles' hair, and he tugs harder when the rhythm is just right. Where pain leaves, sweet numbness engulfs him. The Nogitsune feels the sharpness of pleasure when Scott's ass clenches each time he thrusts into Stiles' open mouth. 

(Scott feels that his heart is made of glass and that it's being shattered with each time Stiles' mouth makes perfect purchase. This monster with his friend's warm and giving mouth knows fully how to devour, how to consume, how to take what he wants. There's nothing slow and steady about the build of pleasure in his belly, warring with all other emotion. He feels unstable, as if the earth has tilted further towards the sun.)

"Stiles," Scott says weakly, and suddenly he's coming in spurts. The Nogitsune swallows down the bitter saltiness and the last of the pain, his eyes fluttering in the dark. 

It took considerable planning to get to this stage of the game; it was worth it. The Nogitsune wipes Stiles' wet mouth with the back of his hand and bites down on his thumb to curb his own desire. There's no time for that now. 

"You really have to learn, Scott. You really have to learn not to trust a fox," he murmurs, sliding a hand along Scott's spent dick and licking his lips. Scott shudders, his hands griping the table ledge behind him. 

Looking up at Scott with dark eyes, he considers how soon he can reprise this delicious scene. Scott's capacity for pain is greater than most; he is a creature to be treasured, nurtured. He takes Scott's hand, the one that had been clutching so tight to Stiles' wet and sweaty hair, and sucks in three of his fingers. Scott shudders. The smell of salt and sex and blood is heavy in the air. 

With an almost clinical coldness, the Nogitsune gently lifts Scott's underwear up and in place, and does the same with his pants. As he stands up, he says: "You know why? Cuz they’re tricksters."

He leans in and kisses Scott so gently on the mouth, like a lover would. There's no more pain to take. Scott only has an ache inside him. A mirror of the sensation is born inside of him, in the boy Stiles who has lost the fight and simply holds on in an anguished terror. He's got Scott in his arms now, a vise like grip. Scott inexplicably wraps his arms around him, holding him closer and breathing hard into his ear. "Stiles," he says softly. "I'm here, Stiles." 

"They’ll fool you. They’ll fool everyone," he whispers. Strength rises in him, firm and absolute. 

The wrecked boy in his arms lets out a slow, quiet breath. It's stabilizing, steadying; and the Nogitsune finds himself doing the same thing (Stiles is breathing out with his brother; they're together in this). There's wetness in his eyes, and soon it rolls down in hot salty tears down his cheek. (Stiles is stronger than the Nogitsune may think.) 

From behind: "Not everyone." The sharp pinch of a needle thrust in his neck and the Nogitsune's grip on the boy, both inside and in his arms, loosens. _Letharia vulpina_ cannot be resisted, no matter how strong he is; the poisonous vulpinic acid curls into every fiber and clots up the senses till he's sick with it. 

As the body falls, the Nogitsune can hear Stiles laugh (a bitter, triumphant sound). 

*  
After: when it's all over, they talk about it once. Stiles tries to brush it off, but Scott pushes closer in. "You okay?" he says, and Stiles shudders. It's a surprise to them both when Scott screws up his eyes and grips Stiles by the arms, claws almost digging into flesh. Scott impulsively kisses him then, chaste and simple. Stiles' lips slightly part, but the kiss does not deepen into something else. This is the singular affirmation of an alpha to someone he loves. "It's okay," he says. Stiles swallows air, and nods his head. Like the air in a slowly deflating balloon, the ache they share slowly leeches away from their hearts.


End file.
